


What Makes A Hero Fall

by somethingscarlet13



Series: NaNoWriMo 2017 [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death, Child Death, Dead People, Death, He kills TWO kids, He kills a kid, I enjoyed writing this a little too much, I think this is the darkest thing I've ever written, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Murder, Psychological Break, Revenge, Superman fucking looses it you guys, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-29 02:01:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12620636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingscarlet13/pseuds/somethingscarlet13
Summary: The prompt was -- "for your otp thing: who dies and who goes crazy with grief"





	What Makes A Hero Fall

The bad thing about humans was how fragile they were. Even the ones that seemed untouchable could die. Clark knew this well. He had lost many friends to the forces of evil, and each time he had to remind himself that it was all part of being a hero. People died and sometimes there was nothing he could do about it.

 

This, however, was different.

 

The man he held in his arms wasn’t just an unfortunate victim of circumstance. He wasn’t just some face in the crowd. He was Bruce Wayne, Clark’s everything, the only other one in the universe that completely understood him. He was Clark’s husband for years, partner in crime for even longer. 

 

And he was gone.

 

Loss wasn’t something new to the superhero. It plagued him almost constantly. For every person he saved, one would die. He had never let that stop him from believing in anything but the good in humanity. 

 

Until now.

 

Gently, gently, he laid Bruce’s body down and stood to face the man who had killed him. It wasn’t one of Bruce’s many foes, which would have been at least slightly understandable. No, it was just a man with a gun. No one special. 

 

It was in that exact moment that Clark Kent lost any and all feelings for humanity.

 

“Do you know what you’ve just done?” He growled at the man, teeth clenched, body shaking in rage. When the bum didn’t reply, he asked again, eyes glowing red. “ _ Do you know what you’ve just done _ ?”

 

At the sight of a supposedly normal citizens eyes lighting up like christmas lights, the man began to back away. “I-I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know....”

 

“That is no EXCUSE!” CLark roared, chest heaving, taking long strides over to the man. He grabbed him by the front of his shirt. “Do you have a family?”

 

The guy nodded, shaking. “A-a wife an-and two d-daughters.”

 

“Give me your adress,” Clark demanded. The man did, stuttering with every word, and when Clark ordered him to take him there, the terrified man obeyed, going so far as to take him directly to his apartment.

Once there, Clark dragged the man to the first bedroom he found. Inside was a woman sleeping on a mattress just big enough for two. “You took the thing I loved the most, Now I’m going to return the favor,” he hissed.

 

Before the man could do anything, Clark’s laser beam eyes were melting away the woman's face. The smell of smoke and burning flesh filled the room, along with the sounds of the man’s horrified screaming and useless begging. 

 

“Daddy?”

 

Clark stopped frying the woman's face, now just a blackened, smoldering skull, to see who had spoken. It was a little girl, not much older than ten, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

 

“Sweetheart,” the man told her, “Run.”

 

It was too late. Before the little girl could even process what her father had said, Clark had turned the girl to ice.

 

“Lacy!” The man sobbed, but it did nothing to Clark. There was once a time where he would have cared, but that time was over. 

 

Not yet done with the child, Clark grabbed Lacy and, swinging her little body in an arc, smashed her against the floor. Frozen pieces went everywhere, the only sounds in the room being the tinkling of ice and the man’s incoherent screaming. 

 

Without saying a word, Clark dragged the man to the next bedroom, where a much younger girl was sleeping comfortably. 

 

The man clawed at Clarks sweater. “Please, please, not her too. Please. She’s all I have left now. I’m so, so sorry. Please! Please!”

 

Void of any emotions, Clark grabbed the girl by the neck and squeezed. Before long there was a snap, and when Clark let go the tiny girl’s head was at a very wrong angle. 

 

Now it was time to take care of the man who had killed Clark’s whole world. 

 

“If you’re going to kill me, just do it,” the man sighed, all fight completely gone now that his entire family was dead. 

 

Clark smiled at him, something that was too wide and showed too many teeth. It was the smile of a madman, all trace of humanity gone. 

 

“Kill you? No. I’m going to leave you with the man you murdered and let you live the rest of your pathetic, miserable life in jail.”

 

The man's eyes went wide as he realized that he would have to live with the death of his family and no way to join them. Before he could even take a breath, there was the sensation of his gut being pulled in one direction and a sharp, cutting breeze, and he was beside the body of the man he had killed, police already on the scene. His presence was noticed immediately, and all the police were baffled when he tearfully admitted to his crime. 

 

Clark was not there to watch the arrest happen. No, he had other things to take care of. The light of his life was gone, and the whole world was going to pay. 


End file.
